The Hive Queen
by StarDreamer2008
Summary: The Speaker for the Dead tells stories for those who cannot. This is the tale of the Buggers.
1. A Word of Explanation

I wrote this for my AP English class, but decided to post it here too!

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A Word of Explanation

Orson Scott Card, in his Ender's Game series, frequently references a book titled The Hive-Queen. The Hive-Queen itself does not have any printed text in any of Card's novels, but the reader is told that the book is written from the Hive-Queen's point-of-view by Ender Wiggin which he signs as Speaker for the Dead. This book is eventually used as the basis of a humanistic religion revolving around a belief in truth and understanding above all else. This short story is an exploration into the thoughts and memories of the Hive-Queen and presented in the context of Ender's book.

My story shows the segmented and disconnected thought structure of the Hive-Queen by using a broken style and alternating format. The following explanation will assist the reader in understanding the Hive Queens as they are portrayed.

The Hive Queens have a type of genetic memory which allows them to remember all of the memories of every Hive-Queen who has ever existed. This genetic memory is referred to as the Memories of the Past in this story (yes, it is supposed to be capitalized). These memories lead to the Hive-Queen's confusion of tenses as well as identity.

Due to the interconnected thought structure and inherited memories of the Buggers , the name given to the species by humans, every Hive-Queen is connected to every other Hive-Queen. She frequently superimposes herself on a Queen of the Past as well as on Queens in other places. She frequently uses "I, she" and "I, we" in various combinations, since she sees her identity as many beings. The Hive-Queen sees herself as all of her workers, all other Queens and all of their workers – not just as the one body where her specific aiúa (philote that controls the body – a.k.a. soul) resides. She can differentiate herself but does so rarely and usually refers to herself as we.

The Hive-Queens move mainly by instinct. They remember the past, acknowledge the future, but do no dwell on either. This leads to a slightly fragmented thought structure.

This story attempts to reveal the anguish felt by the Queens as they realized that they were not as alone as they thought. Their preconceived notions of sentient life led to their destruction, leaving only one survivor who became Ender's source for his text. As Ender's book supposedly provided a deeper understanding of the Buggers and the Hive-Queen in Card's series, hopefully this story does as well.

The opening and ending passages, designated by italics, of this short story were taken from pages 321 and 322 of Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card.


	2. The Hive Queen

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I do not own any of Orson Scott Cards ideas, but THE PLOT IS MINE! so no stealing!

Thank you,

Aliera

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The Hive-Queen

Speaker for the Dead

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_We are like you._

_We did not mean to murder, and when we understood, we never came again._

_We thought we were the only thinking beings in the universe, until we met you, but never did we dream that thought could arise from the lonely animals who cannot dream each other's dreams._

_How were we to know? We could live with you in peace._

_Believe us, believe us, believe us_

* * *

**Darkness**

We see impenetrable darkness.

**Light**

We see day and we understand.

The Earliest days of our existence were thus characterized. This first Queen bound her mates into the first hive – civilizing, teaching, and understanding. The first, soon, was not alone.

I, we, formed the hives. Each Queen, her own city, her own tunnels. Yet, they are me as I am they.

We are we.

* * *

The others are rivals who seek our lands – the others who are ourselves yet not ourselves. The Queen Mothers see a new Queen as a threat to their control of the hive – for she is. If she is permitted to stay, to live – if even one drone comes into contact with her – the worker will fall from the control of the mother.

For this reason we war with the others – the others who are ourselves but not. We seek to maintain the lives we have built – the rivals threaten our survival as we, I, threaten theirs.

Yet the wars are devastating as they rage across our world. Many sisters are lost – they tried to violate our control. As they are lost so are their hives – the rival has been utterly defeated.

There is no pain or fear or gratification at the demise of a rival sister for they are ourselves but not.

There is fear at the birth of a Queen who may become a rival. The Queen Mother will destroy a possible rival if one comes into her, our, hive. And so the young Queen is killed or driven off to become her own hive, her own city.

* * *

Why, why must it be as this, this violent form of existence? We impede our growth as a people by driving off or killing our daughters – daughters who ought to stand beside us to be cared for and cherished.

I am the Great Mother, the Queen of All, and I say it is time to stop.

These wars are pointless. We gain nothing and stand to loose everything – for if I, we, another, were to die my, our, their, hive will die as well. We are shrinking as a species, regressing back to the time when there was only one hive – one queen. As Queen I am responsible for my workers' actions – they will act as I tell them, as I wish – for we are all connected. When I am gone my control, my guidance, my voice will be gone as well – for my life is theirs.

One Hive – One Queen

That is how it has always been, and that is how it must remain if I, we, another, is to maintain control. There can only be one mind for the drones. There cannot be two for two minds cause confusion of loyalties and confusion of purpose.

There must be a way. A way to teach instead of kill, A way to love instead of fear; A way to live in harmony with the others – who are myself but not.

I do not know how many times I have tried. I mean to teach her, them – my daughters, that we must not kill each other, that we can live together in peace. But the way of the wars is too ingrained in their, our, memories; Memories of the Past which are held by all Hive Queens. The memories of every Queen before us are preserved in each new generation, we are them but not.

There were many who failed to understand my purpose in keeping them alive. Many who turned on me as a rival. Many I was forced at last, by necessity, to kill before they killed me and my purpose. These children of myself who are not myself could not be allowed to endanger my vision, and so they had to go. Not because I wanted to, I loved them all, but because it was necessary for the survival of the harmony I sought after – if only I could birth a daughter who would understand.

I wish for us to grow. I wish for us to expand, not regress. I wish for us to _live_ for the sake of living, and for that to occur the wars must stop.

The killing must end, and understanding must come.

* * *

A new beginning – that is what this is.

Finally, there is a daughter who understands my intentions for our future – a daughter who understands the need of _not_ killing or driving away – a daughter who is willing to learn harmony.

It is a new thing. Never before have there been two queens who love each other and understand each other as we do. Yes, we are all linked to the others – who are ourselves but not – but never have they understood me or attempted to do what I have done.

Together we are stronger than the others. Together we can teach them the benefits and joys of _not_ killing or driving away our daughters. We can birth our daughters, teach them understanding and truth and send them out among the stars. To become new hives, new cities, new worlds.

We have many daughters and sisters who understand us, who have joined us in this peace, who help us when help is needed and love us as we love them, and never again will we engage ourselves in killing those who are ourselves but not.

I, she, is remembered in the Memories of the Past as the Great Mother – the Queen of All for she, I, have brought peace to our world, and never again will we kill those who are ourselves but not.

* * *

This was the beginning of our wisdom.

* * *

Time and space have no meaning for us. We live in the moment but we remember the past and acknowledge the future though we do not dwell on it.

To a human time is subjective. You can travel for years in a spaceship while only acknowledging a week of time.

We feel every instant, every second, every year – for we are joined to all others – who are ourselves but not – by the philotes that connect all things.

We see them, feel them, and speak through them. We will know all things that happen to our daughters even though they are years of light away. We will see them instantly, hear them instantly, feel them instantly, for they are ourselves but not.

You would call it philotic twining.

We see each other's hives as we see ourselves and our workers; we dream each other's dreams. We see the new worlds our daughters build. We see their cities, their hives, and we know that they prosper.

We feel the air on those new worlds as I, our daughter, she flies through the air. We, I, feel it on my wings and taste the differences of the suns we can only see as stars from each of our Worlds.

We send our daughters off to numerous new planets with commands to become themselves, become a new hive, a new city, a new world.

And so we grew.

* * *

In all of our traveling, in all of our worlds, we have never seen anything, anyone, to rival us. We have never seen anything as intelligent as us or similar in any way.

We have seen animals of all kinds, but none that are, as you say, sentient.

We have seen skies of all colors imaginable, from blue to purple to green. We have seen plants of all types – types that we could never imagine – for we do not imagine as you imagine. We see what is and what we believe may be; sometimes what may be seems no different to us than what is or what has been.

We saw all this and believed we were alone. There were no animals we could communicate with as we communicate amongst ourselves. There was nothing that could hear our thoughts or dream our dreams. There was nothing that was conscious of the philotic web which permeates the universe and binds life together; the web which binds atoms into molecules, molecules into proteins, proteins into life forms, and the body to the soul - the web which binds each life form to its planet, or in your case, your star and to others of your kind.

* * *

We had never seen anything that we could believe was sentient in any way. So, when we at last found you, and you could not hear our thoughts as we could not hear yours there was nothing that seemed different to us from any of the other worlds we have claimed as our own.

We set about making a new colony, a new city, a new world. We set about taming this world we claim as our own, never realizing that it is not ours to claim.

You have already claimed it, tamed it, and made it yours. And it is yours by right of evolution. This planet you call Earth is your home and always has been. Yet, we cannot hear your thoughts, we cannot tame you for you are too chaotic, too undisciplined, to uncontrollable. You have your own will. You do not have a hive.

We look for similarities and find only differences.

We look for your queen but find only rouges. There is no queen, no central voice. There is no guiding presence behind your actions but yourselves.

Now we understand.

You are like us in many ways. You war amongst yourselves as we once warred amongst our hives. Yet, you can unite against a perceived common enemy, and when you do – you are a formidable rival.

We cannot convey our sorrows at our treatment of you. In our defense we can say only this:

We did not know. We did not understand. For all our knowledge we were blind. You are different. You are yourselves – you are like us but not.

The memories of what we did to you fill us with anguish. We have broken the promise to the Queen of All. We promised, long ago, to never again kill those who are ourselves but not. We have committed the murder of sisterfriends – the highest possible crime. For this reason we deserve your retribution, but we wish you to understand as we wish to understand you.

I hear the alarming terror of the Hive Queen sent to Earth still, in the Memories of the Past, when she discovered what had been done, when she realized what should not have been possible.

She had found another like ourselves, but the other was different – the other was you, and you were many – not one. You do not hear each others thoughts nor do you have an over all guiding presence that leads you in your lives. The philotic web binds you just as it binds us, but you are blind to it.

Still, I hear their, your, screams as they died. So many…. And I understand your wish for retribution, protection, and assurance that you will never be threatened again.

We understand why.

You sought to protect your sisters and daughters as we seek to help and protect ours. You are ourselves but more – you are yourselves alone. You do not dream each others dreams, but you are free.

We did not feel pain or fear at the approach of our demise. We already knew it was coming.

You have not forgiven us. We will surely die.

We understand why. Now, we wish you to understand us.

You seek to protect yourselves from an enemy, for to you we are an enemy to be fought. We are a threat.

We could not tell you then that we truly meant no harm, so you had no way of knowing differently. We wish to tell you now.

We wish you to know the truth. And you have many questions. You have an unending need to understand, to know, to live. You are like she, I, was long ago when we sought to change, to live in harmony. The Great Mother sought to be different and was; you are like her but different.

We promised the Queen of All to never again kill those who are ourselves but not. We have broken our promise. How?

Truth: that is all we know. Even then, only the truth as we see it, and our truths told us that we were alone.

How were we to know?

* * *

_If only we could have talked to you._

_But since it could not be, we ask only this: that you remember us, not as enemies, but as tragic sisters, changed into a foul shape by fate or God or evolution._

_If we had kissed, it would have been the miracle to make us human in each other's eyes._

_Instead we killed each other. But still we welcome you now as guestfriends._

_Come into our home, daughters of Earth; dwell in our tunnels, harvest our fields; what we cannot do, you are now our hands to do for us. Blossom, trees; ripen, fields; be warm for them, suns; be fertile for them, planets: they are our adopted daughters, and they have come home._

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Tell me what you think, PLEASE!


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